SushiSalsa was a new restaurant on Avenue Victor Hugo. While there were new sushi places popping up in Paris every day, SushiSalsa was upscale, offering intricately made sushi platters. When the waiter brought their orders, which came in wooden boats, Clémence beamed.
“It certainly smells good,” Clémence said. “Hey, I wonder if a line of sushi flavored macarons would take off at Damour.”
“Fish flavored macarons?”
Clémence made a face. “Well, it doesn’t sound good, but we’ve had success with savory macarons in the past. I know other patisseries have wasabi flavored ones.”
“I think you’re just inspired by the visually pleasing display of our sushi.”
“Trust me,” said Clémence. “We could pull it off. Savory macarons make great starters.”
“I don’t doubt you for a moment.” Arthur grinned.
She took a bite of her avocado and fried shrimp sushi and she suppressed a moan of pleasure. The pieces were drizzled with a creamy, spicy sauce with pepper flakes, which gave the right amount of kick. Arthur found it too spicy. He coughed and chugged down his glass of water.
“Too spicy for you?” Clémence asked.
Many French people couldn’t handle food that was very spicy. Clémence had built up her tolerance when she traveled through Asia last year. Now she loved spicy food. Arthur obviously did not. He finished the entire bottle of sparkling water that they had been sharing and asked for another
“I didn’t think it would be that spicy.” His face flushed red and there were beads of sweat on his forehead and above his upper lip.
Clémence tried not to laugh; she thought Arthur was even more adorable when he couldn’t keep up his cool act.
“Why are you smiling?” he asked. “Are you laughing at me?”
“No. I was just thinking that you’re kind o...
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...ould get old fast.”
“Right.”
Had Clémence made the same mistake with Mathieu? Perhaps. She always believed that he was the talented one, the one destined for greatness in the art world. Maybe subconsciously, she had prepared herself to be the muse, the wife to support the genius. As a result, he got bored and took her for granted. He cheated on her.
“But you’re different,” said Arthur. “You’re opinionated, you have your own interests and you don’t seem to be the clingy, jealous type.”
“I’m not interested in living someone else’s life,” she said. And she meant it. A relationship didn’t mean one person making all the sacrifices. It was the wrong way to think. She’d learned her lesson. At least what she got from the horrible experience with Mathieu was to never let a man take her for granted.
Arthur looked at her with admiration. “It’s why I like you, Damour.”
‘Yeah, I’ve already started saving for it. I can stay with my brother again so I don’t need to worry about accommodation but I need to get a plane ticket and an event pass.’ He was really energetic now. I opened the packet of macarons and offered him one and then took one for myself. It was a bit stale but still good.
“So those bites were really given to you buy carnivores?” Gilbert asked. He liked watching the Discovery Channel too much.
“Ah yeah sure,” Mason agreed. “Majestic’s the first word that pops into my mind when I think of macaroni penguins.”
"Well," I said, "I think I'd like to start with Lacasse. That was my grandmother's...
“Hey, are you hungry at all? I am. Thought I’d cook something up if you were too—?”
“Well we can’t force feed it to them. Can we?” another man asked, unsure of himself.
Arthur just smiled and gave into his excitement. "Definitely!" You two flitted around the room, checking out every item possible.
“That’ll be a nice change,” Charlie sighed tiredly as she watched him hunt for various pots and pans giving them a good rinse in the sink. Rice went into one and beans into the other. “Rice and beans. How exciting,” she teased.
“Why, only your favorite food in the entire world!” Her mother exclaimed. “I’m so glad you could come back home
“I am not?” Tom opened his eye wide and laughed. He could afford to control himself now. “Why is that?”
“Your love is the thing that keeps me intact with my humanity and doesn’t make me want to go out on a killing streak, like I used to when I newly turned. I had no one to keep me sane,” she expressed, softly.
"Which will you have?" asked Stanley, leaning across very politely, and smiling at her. "Which will you have to begin with - strawberries and cream or bread and dripping?"
"What? What are you talking about? Why does my throat burn? " he was starting to panic.
.... There were daily lineups around the block for their macarons and other desserts and pastries. The salon de thé were booked for weeks in advance. Her mother was just calling to update her and to ask how her trip to Zurich was. They chatted a while longer, but Clémence didn’t want to tell her about Rose’s boyfriend’s death just yet.
“As I passed by your house, I smelled something absolutely delicious, and I wanted to ask if I could join your dinner.”